


Tell Me About That One

by fractalgeometry



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Cuddling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26341405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalgeometry/pseuds/fractalgeometry
Summary: Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale. His sunglasses were absent, as they usually were at home, and his eyes were shining with some emotion Aziraphale couldn’t immediately parse.“Aren’t they beautiful?” he asked, lifting one arm from where it was wrapped around his knees to gesture into the distance.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69





	Tell Me About That One

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the various people on the Ace Omens server who have been encouraging/inspiring/badgering me to write something soft this weekend. I have had precious little free time in the last 36 hours, but I somehow managed to write this anyhow, and I really love it. And yes, I did it to spite you.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this slice of peace and quiet.

The little town was quiet. Around it, the roads were equally quiet, the fields still in the dark night. Within the town, just on the outskirts, a single light glowed in the window of an otherwise dark cottage. 

Behind that window, seated just beside the lamp from which the glow emanated, was an angel. He was dressed comfortably, in his regular tan pants and collared shirt, with a soft brown sweater to top it off. He did not strictly need the sweater — it wasn’t what one would call _cold_ in the cottage — but it was soft and just casual enough for nighttime. He was, at this moment, just looking up from the book in his hands for the first time in several hours.

Aziraphale registered the position of the hands on the clock with a soft _oh,_ and then he was closing the book and folding it into one of his hands to be carried. He switched the light out and stood, walking through the newly darkened room with the ease of one who knows every inch of his surroundings and needs to expend next to no thought on avoiding trip hazards. 

The bedroom was as dark as he had expected. Crowley rarely left a light on when he went to bed alone, though it didn’t bother him when Aziraphale turned it on to read. Aziraphale reached out to switch on the light now, prepared to settle in beside his partner for what remained of the night.

Crowley was not in bed.

Aziraphale frowned. The covers were mussed in a way that suggested Crowley _had_ been in bed at some point in the night, but he was quite clearly no longer there. 

A draft washed across Aziraphale’s feet, strong enough to pass through his socks, and he automatically looked in the direction of the source. The balcony door was open a crack, as though it had been pulled against and then blown open by a particularly determined night breeze. 

It was the work of a handful of seconds for Aziraphale to reach the door and quietly open it so he could look out. Crowley sat on the padded bench along the side railing, turned sideways with his feet pulled up on the cushion, knees to his chest, gazing out at the world beyond. He didn’t seem to have noticed Aziraphale’s near-silent appearance in the doorway.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, stepping onto the balcony. “I’m sorry it’s so late; I _did_ mean to come up earlier, but I got quite lost in my reading.”

Crowley turned. His sunglasses were absent, as they usually were at home, and his eyes were shining with some emotion Aziraphale couldn’t immediately parse. 

“Aren’t they beautiful?” he asked, lifting one arm from where it was wrapped around his knees to gesture into the distance.

“Aren’t what beautiful?” Aziraphale asked, walking closer until he could place his hands on Crowley’s shoulders and look in the direction Crowley had been.

Crowley raised one of his hands and placed it over Aziraphale’s. He didn’t speak again, just tilted his head up to look at the sky.

“Could you not sleep?” Aziraphale asked after a moment. “You’re more than welcome to come and get me-”

Crowley unhooked his second hand from around his knees just enough to wave it dismissively. “I’m surprised you heard me say I was going to bed at all, you were so wrapped up in that book. Don’t worry about it. And sit down already.”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off the sky, so Aziraphale followed his gaze yet again, until he understood. “The stars?”

“Mm,” Crowley agreed.

Aziraphale settled onto the bench behind Crowley, wrapping his arms around the demon’s torso. Crowley leaned back into him, and Aziraphale rested his chin on Crowley’s shoulder. 

“They are pretty tonight,” he offered.

“Stunning,” Crowley murmured.

They sat in silence for a long time, Crowley watching the stars and Aziraphale watching Crowley. The chilly night air blew gently around them, carrying the sort of reassuring dampness that only seems to come when one is outside far too late at night - or early in the morning. 

“Did I ever tell you about that one?” Crowley asked eventually.

Aziraphale followed Crowley’s pointing finger with the effortlessness of someone who knows someone else better than it should be possible to know anyone, straight to the star he was indicating.

“No,” he said. “I don’t believe you have.”

“Hm.”

“Tell me now?”

The words were quiet in the night, hardly more than a whisper. Crowley took his eyes off the sky, turning his head to nuzzle Aziraphale’s temple for a moment before pressing a kiss to the spot. 

“All right,” he agreed, and those words truly were a whisper, floating by like another breeze in the cool air.

He settled back into Aziraphale’s arms, interlaced their fingers over his stomach, and began, softly, to tell the story.

Aziraphale sat there, holding his demon close in his arms, and listened with his whole self.


End file.
